


Drapes

by betterrecieved



Category: Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterrecieved/pseuds/betterrecieved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP</p><p>justacompletefuckup asked:  "can you write a fic where nasir is feeling slutty so he parades around their tent in drapes and does a strip tease and rides aggy?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drapes

**Author's Note:**

> Was "Nagron PWP, Untitled"

“Agron, is your cock yet chilled?”  Nasir pokes out tip of his glistening tongue, smirking up at Agron as he sheds his clothing for the night. “Perhaps that is why you have not taken opportunity to have me?”

“I am never so chilled in mind or body that I cannot be warmed by _you_ ,” Agron assures, stripping hurriedly from his subligar and armor as he makes his way to Nasir.

Nasir, standing naked in middle of tent, bends to their trunk, whipping gauzy curtain over his slender form. “I must know if these drapes match our new tent.  Do they go well with my coloring?  They are so very pink, I fear they do not bring out my eyes -“

“Nasir.” Agron advances, Nasir withdraws.  Curtain falls lower, then with smooth shrug of Nasir’s shoulders pretty brown nipples are once again hidden.  Cock strains against thin material, is swallowed within material’s folds.  “You are prettiest of all, curtain only obscures your beauty.”

Nasir watches Agron watching him, tamps down viciously that part of him that would go straight to Agron’s arms and be claimed without a murmur.

Other part of him, part which teases and tames this slavering, strong-armed beast before him takes over, and Nasir is swaying, lowering his lashes. 

“Tell me, Nasir.”  There is teasing smile to accompany accusing words, but Nasir’s gaze will not meet Agron's.

Innocence and experience warring.  If sword were to his throat, the nasty part of Agron that wants to see Nasir squirm and panic like their first time would choose blushing, stuttering innocence every time.  But there is no sword, only Nasir, body confident, eyes mild when his eyelashes flutter up.

“It is only- I have ached for you these few days past,” Nasir says softly.  “You have not reached for me and I fear you are no longer inflamed by my presence, as you once were..The marks upon my throat fade…am I yet yours?”

And Agron thinks: I need not see the marks, it is all in his eyes.  Mine.

“Flame within me burns as hidden fire within volcano.  You have seen me erupt.” 

When Nasir finally looks up, his whole face is smiling.

Curtain begins to fall as if it is alive, in tiny, sensuous revelations of silken skin.  Agron watches, with one hand drifting down blindly to to prime his cock.

Agron reaches to pull corner of curtain away from Nasir’s body, overpowering smaller man who laughs and holds onto fabric’s edges.

“Agron!” Nasir laughs.  It has been days since Agron has heard merriment from Nasir.

When Nasir laughs he looks younger even than he was when Agron cleared the lustful air around him, made room only for himself and determined that he should have this sweet lost nestling as his own.

Agron wraps Nasir up in curtain’s slack with arms trapped inside, pulling him close.  With a flick of his wrist he unfurls material so that Nasir falls laughing onto their bedding, his big eyes shining.

“Find oil,” says Agron.  “Teasing is over.”

Nasir shudders at blunt command, promptly seeking lubrication under bedding, behind bedding, atop trunk.  Everywhere except just to his right, where decanter of oil stands in plain sight.

Sweet little furrowed expression of concentration is so charming that Agron nearly leaves him to his fruitless search.  But morning will press upon them soon enough, and soon enough they may say good bye.

Agron lowers himself to Nasir’s side, taking up oil, and Nasir brightens as if Agron has performed some small feat of alchemy.

It is always this way with them; Nasir’s love making Agron feel as giant, as hero.  Nasir by his side, his small, infinite comfort, ready to tease or reassure, but always ready.

Nasr’s legs are already spreading, Agron’s fingers slick and searching. Before Agron can press through Nasir’s eternal resistance, Nasir is straddling his lap, arms around his shoulders.

“Agron,” groans Nasir, melting in into him as if his bones have liquified under his soft skin, while Agron’s fingers stretch him patiently, slowly.  Their cocks kiss and rub, and Agron takes them both in his hand, stroking once, twice. Stopping quickly so that Nasir will not find completion in Agron’s sure grip.

Agron lines up his cock with Nasir’s hole, watching Nasir wince even before his body is full breached.   In all the time they have been together, still Nasir retains virgin tightness.

Agron gives Nasir questioning look, and Nasir takes deep breath.  He is as ready as ever he will be, and if Agron wants to bury himself in constricting, spasming softness unimaginable, then he must take Nasir at his word.

Agron pushes slowly inside.  Nasir keens and clings and claws down his shoulders. This is position most challenging for Nasir, he knows. 

Nasir can squeeze Agron’s neck, he can dig right in with his nails with abandon, and Agron may as well be an ox for all that Nasir can hurt him. 

And this is the part Agron knows Nasir loves: Strength surrounding him, arms catching him trapped in cage of Agron’s body.  Only prison he would not willingly escape.

But Agron will go slowly, for there is no point to be made this night, about ownership or prowess or anything except Nasir feeling taken thoroughly for all of those nights the rebellion stole away his man.

First full thrust of Agron’s cock and Nasir is wailing, head thrown back and throat exposed for Agron to lean forward and suckle.  With each movement of Agron’s hips, soft staccato words rise from Nasir’s throat:

Lo-ove.

Ag-gron

Ye-es.

Fu-fuck me.

I can-not.  Ag-gron.

Hands digging into Nasir’s waist, Agron holds back so far that it kills him, for Nasir’s scrunched face belies his pleas even before he admits he cannot take Agron.   He does not truly want all that Agron can give him, not tonight - he wants only enough for reassurance, to strengthen their love bond so recently damaged by Agron’s harsh words. 

Nasir’s cock is hard and leaking all over Agron’s belly, untouched and unneeded for Nasir to reach his climax.

It is eternity inside Nasir, it is the passing of only paltry seconds, but beneath him Nasir’s back arches and Agron is sucked into waves of spasms with Nasir, pulling his long hair foward for claiming kiss, wrapping his arms around small body on his lap to capture him close.

Nasir splatters onto Agron’s stomach and chest, sticky noises filling the tent as Agron flips them so he is on top and he can let go just a little.  
*  
After Agron cleans them both -Nasir will not sleep sticky - he lightly tosses the curtains over his tired body.

“Yes, they do bring out your eyes,”  he smiles.  Then he whips material off, discarding it carelessly in corner of tent.  “Yet I prefer you wearing me.”

Nasir smiles and opens his arms to be draped in his favorite German blanket.


End file.
